


any thrill will do

by colberts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Generation Kill, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crossover, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colberts/pseuds/colberts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Department of Defense sends Colbert and his team out for intel on the mystery assassin with a metal arm. Ray Person's along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	any thrill will do

“This is all kinds of bad with a hint of ‘fuck no’ and ‘do these people watch the fucking news?’” Ray whispers out of the corner of his mouth, gun pressed firmly against his cheek as he methodically checks windows through the scope. Teams of contracts and Recon Marines are stationed on buildings throughout the area, all waiting for Brad’s signal to call it.

“We’re recon. We _do reconnaissance_. We are the eyes and ears of this great nation, and we are going to bring back intel.”

“On a man with a metal fucking arm who has the ability to rip much greater men than you in half.”

Brad scoffs.

“Nobody can prove any of it. He could just be some nutcase with a tinfoil obsession and decent aim.”

“Ya know, you never were one to buy into myths and legends, and I can respect that. But I’m gonna need you to respect the fact that I _do_ tend to buy into myths and legends when they’re involved in catastrophic helicarrier crashes on US soil and Captain goddamn America back from the fuckin’ dead.”

“Ray, the only thing I ‘buy into’ is that someone, somewhere much higher up the chain of command believes that there is something to look for. So use your tiny little eyeballs and get that intel.”

They crouch on the roof for three more hours with nothing between them but silence and the wind. Radio silence is part of the mission protocols, and it’s unnerving without their usual chatter. 

They’re contracts _(“In our old age, we’re lucky they want us at all anymore, Brad.” “Speak for yourself.”)_ and when shit got blown to pieces because the super-secret eyes-in-the-sky spy agency turned out to be full of hidden Nazis, the powers that be scrambled for every willing desk jockey with the best service records and catapulted them into the field after their mystery assassin. Brad’s always up for a challenge, but chasing the guy who nearly killed Captain America seems like a job high above Brad’s pay grade.

As the sun peeks over the horizon bathing buildings in orange and gold, Brad’s just about ready to call it another wash when something heavy taps him on the shoulder. He turns slowly, expecting metal fingers, and instead finds himself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

A rifle that’s held in a metal hand.

“Tell them you saw me across the river.” The gun owner jerks the end of his rifle to the west and looks at Brad expectantly. Ray, who had jumped up the moment Brad had turned around, remains frozen in place with his gun pointed at the ground, trigger abandoned.

Brad takes his hand away from his gun, moves slowly and shifts himself until he’s crouched down, facing the ghost they’d been chasing for a week. The man has black smeared around his eyes and his hair cropped short, just a bit too long to be regulation. They hadn’t been told much about the operative they were chasing, just that he was dangerous.

Under no circumstances were they to make contact with the operative.

“I know you’re in charge. None of the others can see you from their position, so you must be good at covering all your bases.”

Brad blinks up at the man and can’t believe his fucking eyes.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

Ray’s head swivels toward Brad dramatically, his eyes so wide Brad thinks for a hysterical moment that they may roll out.

“Not sure how the rank thing works, given the circumstances.” The man - Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th, co-leader of the Howling Commandos and best friend of Captain goddamn America - shrugs his metal shoulder. His arm makes a whirring sound as he shifts, tossing his rifle across his back in a move that no metal arm should be able to make.

“Well, _fuck me_.” Brad stands and reaches his hand out. Barnes extends his flesh-and-bone hand and they shake. Ray is struck speechless, a feat Brad hadn’t thought possible.

“You guys are good, I’ll give you that. Thought he made me last night on the roof.” Barnes jerks his thumb toward the building they’d been staking out for the last several days. Before Barnes can continue, the spell is broken.

“I fucking told you,” Ray says indignantly, elbowing Brad. “ _‘It’s just the wind, Person, it’s just a glare!’_ Fuck you, Brad, you never have any faith in me!”

Barnes looks between them curiously, amusement wrinkling his forehead.

“Do you want to tell us what side you’re working for these days? Never sure what to make of media coverage.” Brad crosses his arms over his chest, trying to use his height to his advantage. He knows when a fight is over before it’s begun, though, and for once his money isn’t on himself. What Barnes may lack in a little bit of height is more than made up for in sheer muscle mass. And a _fucking metal arm_.

“It’s a very long story, and I’ve got someplace to be. You guys aren’t under the corruption, as far as I can tell, so don’t worry too much about it. I’d appreciate it if you’d throw them off and give me a head start, though. My mission here’s complete, but if I miss my plane, my roommate is going to be worried sick, and then I’m gonna end up doing the dishes for the next week outta guilt.” Barnes nods once and heads over to the south side of the building, pulling himself up onto the ledge. “One more night here and they’ll pull you guys out. Sorry.”

“Nice meeting you,” Ray says under his breath.

“Oh, and Captain goddamn America can pull some strings if you ever want a real mission.” Barnes grins at them.

“Hey,” Brad starts to protest, eyes hooded by his best scowl, but Barnes just laughs and steps over the edge.

They wait in silence for the sound of impact or metal on brick, but it never comes.

“They’d never believe us anyway,” Ray says, shaking his head.

“I guess it’s time to start buying into those myths.”

“You’re a fucking drama queen, Brad. Jesus, do you hear yourself?”

They pack up their gear to the tune of Ray ribbing Brad for his obsession with the Howling Commandos.

**Author's Note:**

> written for a friend right after CA: TWS ruined us all with Bucky Barnes. this is the cleaned up version and I decided to post after recently I unearthed it. title from Hozier's "Someone New" because I can't get it out of my head.


End file.
